


Green Apple Jolly Rancher

by bazinga01



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-13 00:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10502661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bazinga01/pseuds/bazinga01
Summary: This is the story of the first time Kara and Lena met. No, not in Lena's office with Clark Kent. The actual first time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> *titanic it's been 84 years gif plays*  
> hey, y'all. leave it to supercorp to pull my ass out of fic writing retirement.   
> for tumblr @del-fin. thanks for showing up again as my cheerleader all these years later.

Today, for just a moment, she pauses in the middle of the street after saving a bus full of people, pauses before taking off into the sky. She means to appreciate the moment, but instead she’s caught staring back at hundreds of awestruck faces. They are grateful, yes. But no one approaches her, no one hugs her.

She is a hero and she stands alone.

Sometimes, even on the best of days, the loneliness creeps in unexpectedly, unwanted.

Sometimes, she craves to feel human in ways she will never admit aloud.

Still, Alex has learned to read between the lines, knows that when Kara sends a text like ‘ _Going dancing tonight’_ what she really means is ‘ _I want to feel human, I want to feel happy. Don’t bother me unless it’s an emergency.’_

When she texts Alex tonight, she doesn’t get any questions, just a quick, _‘Have fun! Love you. I’m here if you need me.’_

She’s got a cute black dress on, nothing too fancy, but enough that she feels attractive. The stretchy material hugs her waist and thighs, sleeves fitted against her arms to just above her wrists. She lets her hair fall in loose windswept waves around her shoulders, silencing the voices her in head that warn her of the risk in being recognized. No one will expect to see Supergirl in a club, in civilian clothes. And she’s still got her glasses.

She picks Wildheart because it’s new and she’s never been and she keeps hearing people mention it. Apparently Kirsi Wright was spotted there a couple weeks ago while on break from filming for the new season of _On the Hour,_ and it’s been nearly impossible to book bottle service since unless you’ve got connections. But really, Kara is most excited about the fact that the DJs are rumored to be amazing and they’ve got multiple dance floors.

The line out front is long but it moves quickly enough and when she finally makes it up to the bouncer, he gives her a quick once over, laughs, “You could’ve jumped the line, but thanks for waiting.”

A blush colors her cheeks and she shoves her ID in the direction of the second security guy to distract herself. Thankfully all he does is nod, and says, “pay the cover charge at the end of the hall” with a bored voice.

The bass is vibrating through the club, pulsing along the walls, and Kara braces herself against the sensory onslaught. As a teenager, she never could’ve handled something like this, so much sound and lights and background noise. But nowadays, with the help of her glasses, she adjusts easily enough. She welcomes the intensity of the dance music, the way that it dulls out the individual human voices until it’s almost like she can’t super-hear them.

She orders a drink mostly to blend in, but also because the fruity flavors are nice. But if there’s one thing she’s learned from her other nights out dancing, it’s that the less time she spends unaccompanied at the bar, the better. Men, with all their intentions so clearly on display, can be terrible. She knows they can’t hurt her even if they don’t know it, but she’s not here to have her fun ruined.

Somehow tonight she’s still not fast enough. She’s barely placed her order at the busy bar when a tall guy with an undercut-beard combo and a forearm tattoo partially obscured by rolled sleeves is leaning into her space.

“Love the glasses,” he slurs, eyes latched onto her exposed collarbones. “You here with anyone?” He’s close enough that she smells the tequila on his breath, and she flinches away from his advance. The urge to grip the bartop tears through her but she worries about splintering the wood, clasps her hands together instead.

“I, um…well actually--,” she stutters, trying to figure out how she wants to play this.

“Hey there you are,” a voice cuts in from behind her. Kara pivots around, comes face to face with a woman she doesn’t recognize. Her make-up is impeccable, her dark hair pulled back in a sleek high ponytail. “She’s here with me.”

Kara breathes a sigh of gratitude at this woman looking out for her, willing to cut in. The woman arches her eyebrow at him in a way that’s downright menacing, says, “You can leave now,” and he doesn’t dare challenge her. Kara has never seen someone shut down so effectively, and it stuns her into silence.

The woman places her hand softly against the curve of Kara’s elbow. “Are you alright?”

It’s the touch, sparking against the sensitive skin of her inner arm, that pulls her out of her stupor. Kara lets out a relieved little laugh. “That was…wow, um, _thank you_. You didn’t have to do that but I really appreciate it.”

There is a close-lipped smile on the woman’s lips with a hint of humor when she tips her glass toward her and answers, “You’re welcome. I love doing that.”

Kara laughs again, louder and more genuine this time, “What, intimidating men?”

The woman is about to respond when the bartender returns, depositing her drink on the counter and asking if she wants to open a tab. Before Kara has a chance to answer, her savior of the moment interjects, “I’ve got it. Bill it to table four.”

“No, wait, what-“ The bartender ignores her, has already disappeared to input the charge. She turns to the woman again, and her face is impassive aside from the soft glint in her eye. “Why’d you do that?”

The woman shrugs, nonchalant. “You deserve it, don’t worry about it.” She completely ignores the flustered look on Kara’s face, continuing, “So, are you actually here by yourself?”

Kara glances at her face before looking down at the bartop, folding her arms against her chest in equal parts defensiveness and embarrassment. “Yes. But it’s okay, I can look after myself.” _I’m stronger than every person here put together and I’m bulletproof._

She expects the woman to question her, to challenge her judgement, but instead she replies, “Well, if you decide you want some company, feel free to come join me.” She tilts her head toward a staircase Kara hadn’t noticed until now. “I’m upstairs with a rather insufferable birthday group and wouldn’t mind a distraction.”

Her eyes linger on Kara for a moment before she turns on her heels and walks away, and the way she says _distraction_ has Kara thinking maybe she just read this entire exchange wrong. She says it with intention, like she maybe probably very likely is into women, is into _her_ , and her head reels at how quickly everything just happened. How _smoothly_. For the first time in her life she’s marveling at how much _game_ another woman has.

But she…she has no game. She is the opposite of game. She is top of the bleachers as far away from the game as any being could be. She is bleachers girl holding her free drink special staring after a staircase and a woman who’s disappeared into the crowd.

She stands there quietly, takes slow sips through her straw and delights in the sour watermelon combo hitting her taste buds. She realizes, absentmindedly, that she doesn’t even know the woman’s name. The longer she stares after the staircase, the more nervous jitters overwhelm her and the faster she’s downing her drink. She resists the urge to use her super-hearing, to locate the woman’s voice upstairs and get intel. She’s here as Kara, and Kara is here to dane. To dance and to feel normal.

When she finally pulls her eyes away from the stairs, it’s because she hears a song that she recognizes and her attention shifts toward the dance floor. The layout of the club really is incredible, and the energy in the room is electric. She sees a group of women laughing, clearly not sober and twirling around together, and decides to make her way towards them. A purple light beam shines across her face as the bass drops and she sings along, introduces herself to the nearest person. Another girl chimes in, shrieks, “I love your dress! It’s so cute!” over the music, and pulls her into their offbeat dancing.

Kara laughs, lets herself relax into her body, into the music, knowing that she’s found a group she can stick with for the night. For the first time all day, she’s just a girl, she’s just Kara. Attention is directed at her, but not any more so than the other women she’s dancing around. It’s a welcome relief.

The songs blend together, one after another, and sweat collects along the base of her neck, endorphins zinging through her body. Men come and go, most hovering around the perimeter of their group, eyes full of lust but unsure how to step in. The women are indifferent, clearly only out for a girls’ night.

One of them, swaying a little bit in her drunkenness, shouts at Kara in explanation, “Ari got into law school! This bitch is too smart for us!” gesturing toward her friend. All the girls cheer in response, letting out loud peals of laughter.

Kara smiles, grips her now empty glass. “Congratulations! That’s so exciting!”

The DJ transitions again and one of the girls, she thinks it’s Briana, wraps her arms loosely around Kara’s waist from behind, pulling her close and guiding Kara along with her. Her long blonde hair tickles against Kara’s shoulder, and she flushes at the sudden contact. Her grip lacks intention and Kara knows there’s nothing overtly sexual about the gesture, but her body responds. She feels warm everywhere and maybe a little shy, but mostly just light and happy. 

Through the haze of music and lights and touch, Kara feels something prick at her attention. When she looks across the dance floor towards the main bar, she spots the woman from earlier. Her eyes are locked onto Kara, as if she noticed her a few seconds ago, and Kara’s cheeks flush a deep red at the position she’s in. Briana is oblivious, still pulling Kara along with her, and she swears she catches the woman wink at her, flashing an amused grin across the room.

There’s something magnetic about her gaze and Kara feels herself pulled forward, away from her dancing partner. “Gonna get another drink,” she says, loud enough to be heard, and the girl nods, dancing toward another friend without a care.

Nerves flutter through her again as she makes her way across the club, but this time she’s not frozen in place. All the dancing and laughter has put her at ease, made her more confident.  The woman’s smile widens at Kara’s approach, and she leans against the bar, appraising her.

“You look like you’re having fun,” she says with a smirk once Kara is within reasonable earshot. Kara smiles and blushes in response.

“They’re a fun group,” she offers, glancing down to the ice cubes in her glass to avoid prolonged eye contact.

When she chances a glance up again, she’s met with bright green eyes and a gentle hand light against her forearm. “I’m Lena, by the way. I realized I forgot to mention that earlier.”

“Hi.” She takes a slow breath to keep her stammering at bay. “I’m Kara.”

The woman, Lena, looks down at her glass and then inclines her head toward the bar. “Can I buy you another drink, Kara?”

“Oh. You…you don’t have to do that. I can-“

Lena watches her, amused, and not deterred. “What’re you drinking?”

“Watermelon.” Kara immediately feels stupid for her hasty nervous answer, and Lena arches an eyebrow at her. “I mean, it tastes like watermelon. I’m not sure what’s in it. The bartender said it was a drink special.”

“Some sickly sweet vodka concoction, I imagine,” she answers, teasing. “Was it good? I can find out what it was if you’d like another.”

Kara relaxes a tiny bit into the banter, accepts that Lena is determined to pay for her next drink. “It was pretty good. But I’m not picky, I just like fruity drinks without the strong alcohol taste.”

“I think I know something you’ll like,” Lena says, all confidence. “Will you trust me?” She reads Kara’s pause in answering as reluctance. “If you don’t like it I promise I’ll get you something else.”

“S-sure.”

Lena turns her attention to the bartender. Kara fails to notice the way he blatantly prioritizes her order over the other customers who have been waiting longer.

“One green apple jolly rancher, please. The cocktail, not the shot. And a double Highland Park, neat.”

Kara leans against the bartop next to her, feels the tension slowly uncoiling from her muscles. When Lena turns to face her, Kara gets caught up in her smile and the clearly flirtatious attention she’s receiving. The nerves are still there, muted but present, and she has no idea where all this is heading. It’s intimidating not knowing what Lena wants, how far she wants to take this, but it’s even more nerve-wracking not knowing what she wants for herself.

All she knows for sure is that Lena is gorgeous, and Kara is enjoying her night a lot so far. And, there’s now a pale green drink sitting on the bar top in front of her.

“Go on, give it a try. And be honest, I can take it,” Lena encourages.

She takes a cautious sip from her straw and it’s—“Oh my god, this is _magic_. It tastes like candy!” Kara squeals. Lena smiles at her, clearly pleased with herself.

“I knew you’d like it.” Lena raises her own glass, clinking against Kara’s in toast. “To magic.”

Kara bites her lip, finally allowing herself to take in the beauty of the woman next to her. “To magic,” she smiles, shy. The intensity of Lena’s gaze is getting to be too much for her and she needs a distraction when she notices—“Wait, are you drinking _whiskey_? _By itself_?”

Lena arches her brow at her, leans forward, and Kara’s breath catches in her throat. _Rao_ she’s pretty. “Do I detect judgement from Ms. Lover of Infused Vodka Drinks?”

“Um, _first_ of all,” Kara holds up a finger, “fruity drinks are delicious. And also, are you saying I have bad taste?”

“Not at all,” Lena murmurs. “I think you have excellent taste.” Kara’s pretty sure they’re not talking about alcohol anymore. “And for the record,” she adds, lightly running her nails against the top of Kara’s hand that’s back on the bar, “it’s scotch.”

“Scotch, bourbon, whiskey, what’s the difference…” Kara jokes, but her voice is an octave higher, and Lena notices, smirking. The gentlest of touches is lighting up her nerve endings, and she feels like she’s slowly unraveling.

“I’m afraid I have to return to my group, at least make another brief appearance, finish things up. Will you join me?”  Lena gently links their hands, guiding in the direction of the staircase. Kara pauses, uncertain. “They won’t care, I promise,” she adds, as if reading her mind.

After another moment of consideration, she gives in and lets Lena weave them through the crowd, anchored together by their hands, fingers now intimately linked. Her heart is beating so fiercely in her ribcage, all attention focused on the contact of their hands, that she hardly notices the shift in her surroundings when they get upstairs. There is another smaller bar and dancefloor, but the rest of the space is taken up by VIP enclaves with lavish booths.

Lena leans closer to her, whispers against her ear as they approach what must be her group’s large table where around ten people are gathered in a semicircle booth. “Lauren, the girl in the white dress, she’s the birthday girl. She’s had so many shots at this point she probably won’t even notice you’re here.”

Kara can’t help the small shudder she gives when she feels Lena’s warm breath against her neck. Lena squeezes her hand, smiles against her ear before stepping back.

“Everyone, this is Kara,” Lena announces. Kara expects her to continue, to explain her presence somehow, but that’s all she says before scooting into the end of the booth and pulling Kara with her.

She offers an awkward, “happy birthday,” toward the birthday girl, and she’s not sure whether it’s ignored or they can’t hear her. It doesn’t matter though, because as soon as she’s settled into the booth, she feels the press of Lena’s bare thigh against her own and the hand that is now loosely draped over Kara’s knee. Heat pools low in her gut, attraction sparking, and in the moment she’s brave enough to rest her hand on Lena’s thigh.

She feels Lena’s thumb brush against her skin in silent acknowledgment, encouraging, and Kara has never felt so desperate to touch someone. She wishes they were dancing, flush up against each other, so she could have more contact. Instead she watches the way Lena’s mouth moves as she talks to various people in the group. She maps the shape of her jawline, the arch of her cheekbones. And Lena, calm as ever, traces her fingertips against Kara’s thigh while she talks.

She’s sure she’s bound to implode any minute now with how much her body’s tingling.

It’s not that she’s never been attracted to women. She has, and she’s pursued that attraction before. She’s been on dates. But she’s never felt this raw sort of want, where all she craves is touch. Every movement of Lena’s fingers is both too much and not enough. When she’s certain she can’t take it anymore, she stands up abruptly, stutters out, “bathroom,” and stalks off without looking behind her.

She finds the bathroom soon enough, buried in a dark corner, and rushes inside. Her palms are gripping the edge of the sink so hard she fears she might crack the plaster, and she slouches her head down, leaning forward and breathing deep.

Her heart rate is finally slowing, normal sensations returning to her body, when she hears the door swing open behind her and she looks up into the mirror. It’s Lena, eyes curious but wanting, staring at her through her reflection. The door thuds shut behind her and Lena remains standing where she is, leans back against the door.

“What-What’re you doing in here?” Kara asks quietly, willing her racing heart to calm.

“You got up very suddenly,” she says, not really an answer.

“Yeah, s-sorry about that. I’m alright, I just needed a moment.” She sees Lena arch her eyebrow in the mirror’s reflection.

“A moment?”

Kara nods. “You’re…” she tilts her head back, blinking up and away from the mirror’s reflection, unsure how to finish her sentence.

“I’m…?”

There’s a flirtatious lilt in Lena’s voice now, like she suspected why Kara got up and it’s now been confirmed. Kara doesn’t need to see the mirror’s reflection to know that Lena is stepping towards her. Then there’s a ghost of a touch against her left hip and she melts into it, closing her eyes and not daring to meet Lena’s reflection.  

“You’re gorgeous.” Kara feels the words breathed against the back of her neck. “And I know you’re nervous.” Her cheeks blush a deep pink, hands still gripping the sink. “So I’m just going to ask you.” The touch at her waist turns to a gentle grip. “Do you want me?”

Kara shudders, leans into the frame of Lena’s body. “ _Yes_.”

She knows without a doubt that it’s true, no matter how nervous and wound up she is. She wants Lena.

Mustering up every bit of courage left in her, she slowly turns around and opens her eyes, resting the palm of her hand against Lena’s jaw. Lena understands immediately, doesn’t need any further direction to lean in. The last thing Kara sees is the deep swirling green of Lena’s eyes, and then Lena claims her lips, without any hesitation, and it’s like a tidal wave.

Lena’s soft lips glide against hers, one arm secure around her lower back and the other braced against the sink, and Kara succumbs to the pull. She lets the sparking feeling beneath her skin overtake her, whimpering into the taste of alcohol on Lena’s tongue. Lena kisses her deep, breathless, with such assuredness that Kara feels her own hesitations crash out of her. She grips at the back of her hair, silently wishing her sleek ponytail was free but settles for scratching at the base of her neck. 

Lena pulls back a fraction, breath hot against her face as their noses brush together, and waits for Kara to open her eyes. It takes her a moment to resurface from the swell of feeling surging through her, and when she finally does, Lena’s face is startlingly close and smiling.

“As much as I would love to keep kissing you right now, this bathroom entrance doesn’t lock.”

Lena’s words are slow to register in her brain, but when they finally do, she groans and steps out of her embrace.

“Where…what do-“

Lena leans in, presses a lazy kiss to the corner of her mouth, holds her waist. “Want to go somewhere with me?”

Kara blinks several times, staring after her lips. “Where?”

“There’s a hotel, The Fremont, it’s a couple blocks from here.” Kara knows The Fremont. She had to deal with a minor alien threat in their underground parking garage one time. She knows it well enough to know that it’s a five-star kind of place. But also, _a hotel room_.

 “Um…” She desperately wants to keep kissing Lena and probably more, but she doesn’t know what expectations she’s signing up for by agreeing to go with her. The nerves are back in full force.

It must show, because Lena reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Only if you want to, Kara.”

She wants to, _Rao_ does she want to, but she knows there’s something she has to clarify first and the awkwardness of it is paralyzing her. She’s never had to communicate this to a virtual stranger.

“I want to, but, here’s the thing...” Lena stands patiently, listening, and Kara wrings her hands together. “I don’t really like to…be on the receiving end of things.” Lena’s eyebrows raise slightly, but her face remains otherwise composed and neutral. “There are just some, um…some boundaries I have with my body and I’m not sure how far you want to take this but if this is going where I think this is going you should know that, because I’m not sure what you want, and…” she rambles, praying that Lena will catch on and take over the conversation.

“I want you. And if I’m understanding you properly, I think we’ll still be compatible, if we get to that point.” The words themselves are so direct they’re almost clinical. But the way Lena says it, so sure, so sensual, makes Kara’s entire body thrum. “Shall we?”

 Lena holds open the bathroom door for her and rests her hand against the small of her back as they exit together.

 

By the time they finally get to the 19th floor of The Fremont, elevator dinging open, Kara can hardly keep her hands to herself anymore. She just wants to touch Lena, wants to touch her everywhere. When they’re finally in the privacy of their own hotel room, Kara doesn’t even spare a glance at the room itself before pulling Lena against her body and capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

Lena breathes a surprised moan into her mouth before wrapping her arms around her and backing her into the nearest wall. Kara feels the warm weight of her body, the heat in the press of their stomachs separated only by thin fabric, and she arches into the contact. Lena is sure in her movements, steady, and Kara is thankful for her anchoring presence. Because the moment she nips at her lower lip, gently pulling with the cling of her teeth, and then smirks into her mouth at Kara’s whimper, she’s a goner.

One of Lena’s hands moves from the wall behind her to slide down her back, palm settling against her ass and gripping gently. She trails her lips away from Kara’s, and Kara whines at the loss until she feels a languid open-mouthed kiss pressed into the skin of her neck just below her jaw.

“ _Lena_ -“ she breathes out, defenseless and clinging at the soft skin of her bare shoulder, other hand pulling desperately at the tie holding back her hair.

She hums, trails wet kisses down her neck for several slow seconds before finally pulling back. Lena’s pupils are blown with lust when she looks at her, irises shrunk to a dark emerald on the edges, and Kara is captivated. She’s never felt so attractive, so genuinely desired, by another person.

Lena steps back, giving Kara a slow once over and admiring her breathless state, slouched against the wall. Then she turns around, pulls her ponytail to the side, and offers her back to Kara. “Unzip me?”

Kara’s hand is steady when she reaches for the blue fabric of her dress, pulling the zipper down. And then Lena releases her hair from its confines, spilling down her shoulders and back before she sweeps it to the side over her shoulder. Kara can see the black satin of her strapless bra, the gorgeous curve of her spine, and she leans forward to press a chaste kiss to the back of her neck and whispers into her hair.

“ _Show me what you want?”_

Kara is unsure, but she is calm in the weight of this shared moment. For the first time tonight, she feels Lena rock against her, shudder.

“ _Fuck_ , Kara..”

Lena spins around, tugs at her dress, lets it pool on the floor. Kara marvels at her, feels her tongue stick in her throat when she sees the low set of a black thong against her hips. There’s so much _skin_ to touch, and she doesn’t even know where to start.

Then there’s fingers against her chin, tilting her focus up to meet Lena’s eyes. “I’ll show you,” she purrs. “And you’ll tell me what you like and don’t like as we go?”

Kara nods, smiling, trying to keep focus. “Yes.”

It’s like a switch flips in Lena after that. She wraps Kara around her, pulls her toward the bed, hums, “ _C’mere_ ” into her neck. Everything becomes a blur of touch and tongue and words against her ear, against her skin. Her dress is on the floor, glasses too, and every one of her senses is in overdrive.

Kara is so worked up that by the time Lena is bare, straddling her, all traces of bashfulness are gone. Lena’s grasping her hand, guiding her fingers to settle against the liquid heat of her center while she leans over her. Lena’s hair falls in a curtain around their faces, and Kara arches up at the feel of Lena’s arousal on her fingers. She wants this, wants to feel Lena come undone around her, to let pleasure consume them.

Lena’s hand stays on her wrist, even though Kara doesn’t need her to, doesn’t need that reassurance, and she’s sure that Lena’s getting off on this. The control of it. Kara fucks her, slow at first, and Lena’s hips roll with her while she braces her other arm next to Kara’s head. She might come just from the sheer eroticism of it all, of being inside her while Lena surrounds her and guides her. She’s never felt like this, ever.

Lena comes a few minutes later with Kara’s fingers curling against her just so, shakes and tenses above her until she relaxes into Kara’s body with a sigh. Kara holds her, kisses her temple and presses her now slick fingers into the sheets.

“That was…I don’t even…” Kara murmurs.

“Hot. Really, really _hot_ ,” Lena groans, pushing up to meet her eyes. “But I hope you don’t think we’re done yet.”

It’s Kara’s turn to smile and arch her brow. “I don’t tire easily.”

Lena presses a slow kiss into her smile, making her giggle. “ _Mm_ , I’m glad.” Lena scratches along her abs, kisses her lips again. “ ‘Cause I’ve got some plans for that mouth of yours if you’ll oblige.”

She only gives Kara a second to be shocked at her crudity before she deepens their kissing again and Kara groans, sinking back into the pillows.

It’s gonna be a long night.

 

She wakes to the buzzing sound of her phone vibrating on the other side of the room. Sunlight is streaming through the sheer curtains of floor to ceiling windows and she blinks against the brightness, burying her head under the feather soft duvet. There is a warm press of bare skin against her leg and Kara startles awake, remembering where she is.

The Fremont. Lena.

Her dark hair is splayed across the pillow, eyes heavy with sleep, breathing even. She’s somehow even more beautiful in the early daylight. Kara hears the vibration of her phone start up again and she slowly pulls herself out from under the covers, trying desperately not to wake her.

Cool air hits her naked body and she scurries over to her phone, scooping it up and rushing into the bathroom. When she shuts the heavy door behind her, she looks down at her caller ID and groans. Three missed calls from the DEO.

Sure enough, the buzzing starts up again, barely without a pause, and this time it’s Alex.

“Hey Alex,” she answers in a low voice, accepting the call.

“Kara! Finally! Where are you? We’ve got a situation on 14th and Houst and we need you there ASAP.”

Kara groans, blinking herself awake. “How ASAP?”

“ _ASAP_ , ASAP.” Alex sounds frantic.

“Alright, alright, I’ll be there soon.”

Kara darts out of the bathroom as quietly as possible, realizes she’s going to have to find a secluded alley where she can fly off in her black dress without being spotted. She has to go home first, she doesn’t even have her suit, and _where_ is her left shoe?

She does a quick scan of the room with her x-ray vision and finds it lodged under the end of the bed. Lena sleeps peacefully, oblivious to her panic. Kara’s got her glasses on and is ready to take off into the hallway when she pauses and looks back at the woman still in bed.

She remembers sparkling green eyes and all-consuming touch and she hates that she has to leave, hates that she won’t get any closure. Any chance to see where this could go. But maybe that’s for the best. She’s Kara. But it’s a new day, and she’s also Supergirl again, and duty calls.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, barely a whisper, and exits the room into the hall, rushing toward the elevator.  

 

That morning, Supergirl saves six people from the raging flames of an apartment fire. Lena wakes alone, and watches the aftermath of the fire on the news in her hotel room.

 

_Two and a half months later_

The Venture shuttle explodes and she’s caught in a media storm of speculation. Reporters swarm the outside of the Luthor Corp building, and she takes the delivery door back entrance to avoid confrontation.

Still, somehow Clark Kent has managed to get in, some woman trailing behind him, and she ignores their presence. If he wants to talk to her so bad he’ll have to follow and make his case. By the time they make it to her floor, he’s only a few steps behind her, talking about the shuttle explosion and waiting for a response.

She finally indulges him once they’ve made it to her office. “There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for why I wasn’t aboard the Venture yesterday,” she starts, still facing away from him. She hangs her coat, explains the re-naming ceremony she has planned.

Mr. Kent says, “ _lucky_ ” with a scoff, like he doesn’t believe her one bit, and she turns to face him.

“Lucky is Superman saving the day.”

That’s when she notices the woman standing with him and she nearly loses her balance. _Kara_.

Her fingers are clutching at a notebook and her eyes go wide for the briefest second before she looks away and focuses her attention on Clark. But, it’s her. It’s _definitely_ her. The girl she met at Wildheart several weeks ago, who left the next morning before she woke up.

It only takes Kara a moment to recover before she regains her composure and chimes in, “Supergirl was there too.”

Lena can’t help the smile she gives her, the quick once over as she circles around to her desk. She knows she needs to be professional, despite the flirtatious energy she can’t help but direct her way. It’s clear that Kara is here for work somehow, and now is not the time to indulge her questions, her desires. Those will have to wait.

“And who are you, exactly?” she laughs, and Kara stammers.

“Um, umm…I’- Kara Danvers.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @ starchasertonight  
>  fangirling, comments, and thoughtful constructive criticism always welcome. xo


End file.
